Breaking Their Hold
by pandellabear
Summary: During the war. The brightest witch of their age has been captured, left in the hands of Draco Malfoy. Surely death would have been better than this?
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Hello there! It's been quite a long time since I've published anything to fanfiction... I've deleted some stories, and may revise some of them. All of my other works are from when I was in 7th grade, or roughly 13. I am now a sophomore in college. Anywhoo, here's the first chapter of something I've been working on for awhile. Thanks for reading! **- Bella**

Cold. That was the only word to describe how Draco was feeling with any form of accuracy. There was a numbness -nothingness even- in his soul. There were high expectations of him now that the war was underway and the Dark Lord had the upper hand. The staggering reality of it made his stomach twist violently into knots. His life was on the line. More importantly, the life of his father and dear mother were practically in his hands. One mistake, and they would be gone. The Dark Lord wasn't one to be empathetic, but sadistic.

The war was changing him, but not exactly in the way most people would have thought. He'd been walking a tight line his entire life, not daring to stray for fear of the consequences. He was bred to hate, honestly, and he did for the most part until he'd been at Hogwarts a few years. He started to form his own opinions, though he wouldn't dare share them with a single soul. He'd always been stoic, he never had an issue camouflaging his true emotions with others that were more pleasing to his family and the Dark Lord.

He was a pawn. A tool used by the Dark Lord to gain control of the entire magical world. The Dark Mark on his arm branded him like some sort of animal. Each time he was called, it singed the feeling of dread into his skin. It never got easier. Each confrontation meant another horrendous task. Refusal meant death. To him, his family, to anyone he'd ever remotely cared about. He couldn't let it happen, regardless of what he had to do. He just hoped he'd never have to actually kill someone. He had a hard enough time living with himself as it was.

Sleep didn't come easy to him. He opened his eyes as the sun poured into his window, making him wish he had shut the curtains, desperate for rest before the day had even started. He made his way to his bathroom, preparing to take a shower. His eyes grazed his reflection in the mirror, noticing how much he had changed. His skin was of unhealthy, paled coloring. His eyes had sunken in, their silver coloring had long lost their gleam. The demanding life of a death eater was draining the life out of him. He'd be ashamed for anyone he knew from his time at Hogwarts to see him in this state.

Hogwarts. His childhood. He wish things were as simple as they were then, when there was a distinct line between good and evil and he sided with his father and the Dark Lord without question. Now he questioned his own intentions. He had given Dumbledore, the man who saw any sort of goodness inside of him, into the hands of death. He couldn't bear to do it, and if Snape hadn't muttered those two unforgivable words he and his family wouldn't even be alive. Regardless, the whole population of Hogwarts had grown to absolutely despise him. He didn't want to play the bad guy anymore. He didn't want people to fear his name and hate his very being. Though he was beginning to question it, Draco Malfoy wasn't evil.

But what did that matter? If you took the rotted corruption out of him, what would be left? A broken body with a gentle soul that no one would believe in. The thoughts were starting to sicken him. He was born for this, his father instilling no other ideas into his head. He had to be the bad guy, no matter how much it pained him. It was a heavy burden to bear.

He stepped into the shower with a sigh, determined not to give it another thought.

He had just finished getting dressed when the searing pain pulsed through his arm. The Dark Lord was summoning him to another task. He silently said a prayer that he wouldn't have to kill anyone. He took a deep breath as he placed his right thumb on the mark before apparating away from his home.

He glanced around to find himself in an unfamiliar setting. It was a manor, one belonging to a Death Eater of course, but not one he was familiar with. "Ah, Draco," he heard an unsettling voice calling him. He turned around and was greeted with the face of the Dark Lord, sitting at a deep, mahogany table no more than ten feet away from him.

"My Lord," he greeted with a slight bow of his head before taking a seat at the table before him. It was an unsettling five minutes, waiting for the other Death Eaters to arrive. It was almost as if Voldemort's eyes never left Draco, though he would admit he seemed a bit paranoid. Too paranoid for his liking. He could only hope Voldemort hadn't decided to try and pry into his thoughts. He knew Occlumens, but didn't know how long he could keep it up. It wasn't that he was hiding any sort of memory, which is usually what happened with Legilimens, he was suppressing his emotions.

He swallowed hard as Voldemort started speaking once everyone arrived, his eyes staring holes into the table in front of him. He always knew his father expected him to carry on the Dark Lord's orders, but Draco never thought it'd be possible. It seemed like only recently Voldemort was stuck to the back of some poor man's head. Now he had grown so powerful things were looking grim for the wizarding world.

Voldemort was being attacked by quite a powerful force. Harry Potter had a vengeance that wouldn't be settled until the Dark Lord was dead. The Golden Trio as a whole would die for the cause. Hermione Granger, without a doubt the most brilliant witch of their age, was putting up such a fight that his father was even mildly impressed… as far as mudbloods went.

He had tormented her over the years. When he was a first year, it didn't seem like much. He was only eleven years old. She was a Mudblood, and that was what his father would stress about her. _'She isn't worthy..._' The words still rang in his head. He was brought into the world hating muggle-borns like her. Years passed, and by the time he started to think for himself, it was too late. The damage was irreversible, his words left too deep a wound in her, and he hated himself for it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name. It caused his heart to pick up rapidly. "My Lord," he repeated from his greeting, painfully curious as to what the man had to say.

"I have a special task for you," he said with a menacing smile. Draco could only imagine what terrible things that meant for him. "There are numerous cells beneath Malfoy manor, correct?" he paused. Draco nodded, picturing the cells where a number of people, including Ollivander, had been held in the recent past. "Well Draco, I believe an old friend," he paused, a sadistic gleam in his snake-like eyes, "May be there to meet you soon," he smirked. "Please make sure to welcome her for me," he laughed cruelly. Draco felt his stomach twist, but only nodded, hiding his emotion and forcing a smirk on his face. He had always been good at covering his emotions, it wasn't nearly as difficult in the presence of the Dark Lord as he would have thought originally. Perhaps he had been too worried coming into the meeting.

He said a quick but reverent good-bye and apparated back to the manor, not wanting to be there longer than necessary. He needed to see who he was tending to before his heart beat out of his chest. The cruel excitement Voldemort had expressed had Draco worried. Sure, his only 'friends' at Hogwarts had been fellow Slytherins, all pureblood. He knew he couldn't possibly be referring to any of them.

His feet quickly shuffled down the stairs to the dungeons, his body completely freezing as his steel-blue eyes locked onto a pair of chestnut eyes. Hermione Granger had been caught. He was stunned. The brightest witch of his age was now out of the battle. Good stood no chance in the fight any longer.

Her hair was as frizzy as it had always been, matted slightly- he wasn't sure what caused it. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a large gash in her side. The crimson evidence was clear on her ratted, once white button-up. Her arm was being gripped by another Death Eater, as she had been fighting back. It would bruise, no doubt.

As their eyes met he was reminded of his childhood, his years at Hogwarts. Granger was one of the few surviving memories of his childhood that he'd probably ever see, and in that moment, he felt horrible. He had become a monster, and that was clear through the venom with which he spoke, "Granger," he spat, immediately regretting his harsh tone.

She winced lightly at the sound of his voice, her eyes closing for a moment before retorting back, "Malfoy," at him with an equal amount of venom. Her eyes gave everything away. She wasn't angry, she was humiliated, alone, and maybe even hopeless.

If anything, she had always been optimistic, even he knew that. Her spirit had been broken, and Draco couldn't help but feel any glimpse of hope dissipate as he looked in her eyes. 1/3 of the Golden Trio had been knocked out of the race, left helpless. He felt even worse.

Did he dare to say she was a pleasant memory for him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy their mindless quarrels. She was the one girl to ever stand up to him, and he honestly looked forward to it when he was younger. He had said so many cruel things without even realizing the severity. As he grew older, they turned into simple taunting back and forth, perhaps less insulting. But in that moment, he knew she wouldn't stand up to him. She held onto her dignity, but she was placed into a cell without a fuss. She sat in the corner furthest from him.

"Have fun with this one, Draco. She's a little feisty, but not too difficult to manage," an unfamiliar voice spoke to him. Draco looked over to see one of the Death Eaters, and he suddenly found himself fighting back the urge to attack. He merely nodded, straight-faced, and then watched him walk away.

Silence followed.

"Granger," he spoke softly as he approached her cell, "What have they done to you?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He crouched down to be at eye level with her, noticing how she refused his eye contact. He sighed lightly before standing up. "I'll be back before dinner," he said without much emotion.

He started to walk away, but was stopped by her sudden cry, "Wait!" He turned on his heels, looking back at her, stunned. "Malfoy," she addressed him firmly, pausing a moment. Her eyes met his, piercing into them, making him feel incredibly guilty already. "Why?" she asked him, her voice faltering as she awaited some sort of response.

His eyes focused on hers for a moment, desperately searching for an answer inside of him. He held his breath as he turned and walked away from her, letting it out as a sigh when he was out of earshot. Damn her. Damn her for reminding him of the animal he had become.

**OKAY**. There goes the first chapter! I'm excited to see what you think! All comments, questions, and criticisms are welcome. Next chapter should be up in a few days. It's half written and needs editing. I have the general story arc mapped out, but I'm open to suggestions. I'm glad to be back :) **- Bella**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thanks for the reviews! While I figured it would be, it's always nice to hear that my writing has improved. I had quite the creative mind in middle school, but had no idea how poor I conveyed those ideas to the world. So, cookies to you lovely reviewers... and onto Chapter 2. It's not quite as long, but I found it a good place to leave for now. **- Bella**

**-DMHG-**

"Come on Granger," he insisted, his voice growing impatient. He had brought her dinner, straight from the kitchen and several of the Malfoy's house elves. He hadn't even told her that bit, though it was probably inferred that the Malfoy's didn't do any labor around the house. She was convinced there was something wrong with it, that it had been tampered with some sort of spell or potion. She hadn't so much as moved from her position against the back wall.

He rolled his eyes, "Granger, if you don't eat you'll be dead within a matter of days," he said matter-of-factly with a roll of his eyes.

"What's it matter to you, Malfoy?" she retorted with a huff. She was putting up good defense for how scared she truly was. Why couldn't they have just killed her on the spot? Being stuck in a cell under Malfoy Manor was more than enough torture, though he wasn't quite acting as she would have suspected. No, these sadistic people wanted to torture her, rather than give her the pleasure of death.

He was taken aback, once more, by her question. It mattered because of how he had treated her in the past. It mattered because he was sick of this war. But he obviously couldn't say any of that, she'd think he'd gone completely mad. "You're my new source of entertainment," he responded with a smirk, watching her scowl at that comment. "Look around Granger, you're the only one here," he added, his eyes watching her. She seemed tempted to move, but still decided against it.

"Regardless of what you think Malfoy, I'm not some sort of animal. I'm not here to entertain you. You can do whatever you want, but I assure you it won't be the least bit amusing," she said coldly, glancing over at him before looking down at her nails as if she were disinterested. Suddenly she grimaced.

He rose an eyebrow before remembering her injury. How could he have forgotten when it had stained most of her shirt? "Are you still bleeding?" he asked, crouching down so he was eye-level with her.

If she had been looking, she might have caught the glimpse of concern in his eye. She shook her head simply, still refusing to move. "You're in pain," he said simply, raising a brow at her lack of emotion over it.

The look in her eyes was venomous as they finally met his own, "Leave me alone," she hissed, her hand placed over her stomach, guarding the gash that lay beneath the thin fabric.

He almost tried to protest, but decided it would be useless. He left the plate sitting on the stone floor, a glass of water beside it. Perhaps, if she got desperate, she'd eat it. He left wordlessly, her curled up figure imbedded in his mind.

**-DMHG-**

"Draco, do make sure our visitor is enjoying her stay," Lucius smirked, his words slow and full of delight. Nothing enjoyed him more than torturing a mudblood, perhaps his own son being the exception that that. It wasn't often that it happened, but Draco had several scars, serving as painful reminders of what happened when you angered a Malfoy.

Draco only nodded, afraid his words might come out wrong given his emotional state. How the hell had the brightest witch of their age been caught? He figured they would have caught Weasel, even Potter before they got to her. Once the war was over, he figured she'd settle down, and never be heard from again. Well, the ending would be the same, though nowhere near as happy. She was a prisoner, and Draco had no idea how long they planned on keeping her alive.

"Have you asked about Potter yet?" Lucius asked, raising a brow, hoping he'd raised his son properly. Draco's shake of his head earned him a slap, before Lucius caught his face in his hands. "You'd do best not to forget your job," Lucius threatened, his eyes deadlocked on the boy. "Need I remind you?" he asked with a smirk, cocking his head to the side.

Draco scowled, shoving his father out of his way and continued walking. He made his way out of the Foyer, his eyes set on the door that led to the dungeons. His father smirked in satisfaction.

The sounds of his feet on the stairs quickly drowned out whatever noises Hermione had been making. He could faintly hear her stifle a sob. She was still curled in a ball, almost exactly where he had left her earlier. "Granger?" he started, coming closer. She didn't move. "Granger!" he repeated with more force in his voice. She peered at him from behind her curtain of tangled, brunette hair.

"Look," he started, kneeling down to be eye-level with her. "I need for you to tell me what you know about Potter," he started, intending to keep talking.

"Are you serious?" came her loud voice, sitting up suddenly. He saw her wince, though she tried to hide it, as she kept speaking. "You saw what happened last time," she said bitterly, her voice a bit quieter, eyeing him darkly. She was determined not to give them any information, no matter the torture.

He remembered exactly what happened. His aunt had tortured the girl. He had the opportunity to watch, and had done nothing. He could still hear her screams- they had echoed through the manor. "Granger, the plan isn't to torture you this time," he explained. There was relief in her eyes, though he was about to take it away again. "They want me to kill you," he finished solemnly, taking the chance to look up at her. She was fuming.

"You?" she laughed bitterly, "You foul, loathsome, evil little coward?" she questioned. He hadn't succeeded in killing Dumbledore, and she doubted he'd have it in him to kill her either.

"Don't get too excited Granger," he started darkly, pulling out his wand and pointing at her, "You forget who has the power here," he threatened her rather harshly. He didn't take kindly to her criticism, halfway forgetting that he planned on helping her.

"Do it then!" she yelled at him, her breathing heavy as her heart rate was increasing. He muttered a spell under his breath, not wanting her to hear what he was doing. She looked absolutely terrified as she felt her skin tingle and start to stretch. She let out a gasp in pain before her eyes met his. She was too afraid to move.

Within seconds, the pain was over- her wound had been healed. She looked down in disbelief, pulling up her shirt slightly to expose the smooth skin of her stomach. The gash was gone. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, still confused. Since when had he practiced healing and medicine?

He smirked in satisfaction as he watched her reactions, changing from fear, to disbelief, to confusion, to… gratitude? He wasn't entirely sure until he heard her voice, much smaller and softer than before. "Thanks… Malfoy," she admitted, looking over at him from her side of the small cell.

"Granger, I want to help you," he said softly, knowing he'd be dead the second anyone else heard his words. "But I need for you to work with me."

She nodded simply. "Harry's… he's… He was out there fighting when I was captured," she explained briefly. Draco sighed in frustration at the lack of information to work with.

"They know that… Hermione if you want to live I need to know more than that. I need you to tell me everything you know…" he started. "Even if you have to make some of it up," he smirked.

A small smile crossed her face. Slowly, she made her way closer to his side of the cell. Various ideas started coming from her mouth as she thought aloud, trying to decide what would seem believable, keep her friends safe, and keep her from being killed.

"I'm impressed Granger," Draco spoke, breaking up her train of thoughts, "You're starting to sound like a Slytherin," he smirked. She didn't bother to verbally respond, as she just kept thinking of different ideas aloud once more, her face said enough. She had a smirk that could almost rival his own.

**-DMHG-**

**AN:** Alright! There's Chapter 2 :) Once again, please review- I'd love to hear your opinions! New chapter will be up soon, as I start Spring Break in a few days. Thanks! **- Bella**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Hello loves, thank you once again for the reviews. It always makes my day when I check and see an new review. I'm pleasantly surprised at how positive they've been. But now, onto the chapter, and a cruel cliffhanger… ** - Bella**

"Very good Draco," Voldemort praised the boy, choosing those words to begin their meeting. Draco had explained Hermione's story to his father, and he was sure Lucius had run off to tell Voldemort the second he heard it. The man was desperate to get back into the Dark Lords good graces.

Draco nodded, placing a satisfied smirk on his face. The Dark Lord was pleased with the information Hermione had chosen to give him. Sure, it wasn't exactly true, but she was brilliant and made it all believable. She had risked several hiding places of the Order, though they were no longer used. Voldemort had no knowledge of any of this though, and he found it to be exciting.

"I could show the mudblood a lesson," Bellatrix added in delight. There was nothing she enjoyed more than torture. She had a sick obsession with the Dark Lord, and constantly went out of her way to please him. She was always the one to volunteer, regardless of the task.

She looked over at her nephew, "Draco dear you've no experience," she explained as nicely as she could. He kept a stone face, worried as to where this conversation was headed. She whipped her head back to the head of the table, "I'm sure I could get more information from the girl," she said confidently.

"No," Voldemort cut her off harshly. A sick smile appeared on his lips as he looked at Draco. "He's doing quite well, better than I expected," his latter words sharp, his head turning towards Draco's father, Lucius. He was still intent on punishing the man, as he was unable to obtain the prophecy several years back. He'd lost favor with the Dark Lord once he was out of Azkaban. Draco knew he was expected to fail. Voldemort gave him seemingly impossible tasks as a way of punishing his family. Failure meant death.

Draco nodded solemnly, purposefully avoiding his father's gaze. As the conversation slipped into other matters, Draco found himself zoning out, no longer paying attention to the discussion. He was just waiting for the second he was allowed to leave.

**-DMHG-**

Hermione's soft laugh in gratitude provoked a smile from his lips. No matter how good her story had been, she doubted it would work. The girl always prepared for the worst, and she always expected it as well.

Draco couldn't afford to think that way. His hopes of the war ending were the only things he had left. When they captured Hermione, he was convinced that all hope was lost. But with the way things had been going, he wasn't entirely sure.

It was silent awhile. Draco was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice. Hermione, on the other hand, was sweating over what to say.

When she'd first been captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, she was expecting the worst. The last time she had been there, she had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, while Draco had just stood aside and watched. He didn't seem pleased with it at the time. In fact, for a split second he had looked horrified. The boy who had tormented her for so many years at Hogwarts, who had threatened her, and laughed at the idea of her death, he was left speechless. Their eyes had met, but she couldn't tell what emotion was hiding behind his steel-blue eyes. He guarded his emotions well. Every now and then she could catch something, but it was rare.

Regardless, being under his watch, she expected torture, and horrible embarrassment from the boy who had made her life hell at Hogwarts. So far it hadn't been much of either. "How long do you think this will go on?" she asked rather softly, afraid to hear the answer.

Draco looked up from his thoughts, his eyes meeting hers a moment. "The war?" he paused a moment to think, "If Harry's made any advances lately, he's a league ahead of… us." He finished his sentence softly, hesitating when he realized who he had to classify himself as in front of her. He was supposed to be the enemy. He had been her enemy for years.

He chanced looking at her, seeing her eyes were on the stone tile she was sitting on. He figured he might as well keep talking. "Your capture?" he asked, biting his lip as he thought more. They had plans to kill her, had she not cooperated. With her complying, he couldn't be sure. They'd have to let her go at the end of the war… if the Order succeeded. But if his own side won? She'd probably prefer death. He couldn't figure the best way to answer, and she noticed his hesitation.

"I'm never getting out of here," she answered, her eyes glistening with tears.

"No!" Draco replied with force, wishing he'd never brought it up. He didn't know if there was anything he could say to make it better. Her fate lay on the war; one which she was no longer allowed a fighting chance.

He stood up suddenly at a sound coming from the door. A pair of feet descended the stairs swiftly, and Draco's eyes met those of his father. Upon seeing Hermione's tearful state he smirked, pleased with the situation.

"Very good Draco," he complimented, looking over at his son. Draco had nearly reached him in height. "Surely you won't mind as I watch you teach this filthy little mudblood a lesson, do you?" he smirked, purposefully putting his son under pressure. Lucius knew Draco hadn't done a thing. While he had no idea how he had gotten any information out of the girl, he wasn't pleased with the lack of pain on her end. She was a prisoner, and he had to remind Draco of that.

Draco swallowed nervously, buying himself a moment of time. He had to keep himself steeled. The only person who ever saw into his eyes and meddled with his emotions, besides Voldemort, was his own father. He placed a twisted smirk on his face, feeling his stomach twist into a knot. His palms were sweaty as he grabbed his wand from his pocket, wishing he could say something, do something to let her know he felt sorry for it.

"Well Draco, you know which spell to use," he scowled, growing impatient. "I made sure you had enough practice," he added, his eyes glancing over at Hermione. She glared at him before turning her attention back to Draco, silently pleading with him with her eyes.

He nodded, silently pulling out his wand, trying to keep his arm from shaking. He cleared his throat, his eyes never breaking their contact with Hermione. He showed no emotion, "Crucio," he said softly, wishing he could turn away from what started happening right before his eyes.

**AN:** Poor Hermione… But, it can't be all sunshine and rainbows, can it? Chapter 4 will be up soon. I have midterms today and tomorrow, but then I'll be home for Spring Break! Unfortunately, I'll be stuck at home, but that means plenty of writing! Please review, I love hearing what you all think! **- Bella**


End file.
